Uncertainty
by WolfQuest
Summary: Five missing scenes from Dark of the Moon, focusing on Sam, Mikaela, Optimus, and Lennox.


**A/N:** Back when _Dark of the Moon_ came out, there were a bunch of fics that were along the lines of 'fix-it' fics. So this was something I worked on back then. It's a series of missing scenes that help explain some of the events that happen in _Dark of the Moon_ that aren't suitably explained on screen, and to fix one character's ending.

* * *

 **Scene One: Uncertainty**

 **10 months after** _ **Revenge of the Fallen**_ **.**

It started, as unsettling things so often did, with something small.

"Sam," Mikaela spoke softly, rolling over to face him. She had to lift her head a little, propping it up on her right arm, to see over the picnic basket between them. Sam blinked at her dreamily, the warmth of the June sun and gentle breeze lulling him toward sleep.

"I've been thinking," she continued. She hesitated for a few beats. "What do you think of me staying on at the shop?"

"You mean for the next year? I figured you would be."

"For ... a long while. Not just your sophomore year of college, or junior year. But beyond."

Sam twirled a blade of grass he'd plucked from beside him. He sensed a need to tread carefully. "Why would I mind? It's your job, and you're helping your dad."

"I might do it my whole life. I don't see a lot of opportunities for myself elsewhere."

"But you're brilliant with cars. I'm sure half the people in the world wished they had a job that they were so talented at. Heck, I wish I knew how to change the oil in a car. Granted, my car doesn't need oil changes for like, centuries – if ever – but you know what I mean." He glanced into the nearby trees where flashes of yellow glinted in the late afternoon sun. Bumblebee was having fun exploring the isolated preserve they'd discovered recently; he'd grown fascinated with the fish in the stream. Sam figured they didn't have rivers on Cybertron.

Sam brought his gaze back to Mikaela, awaiting a response to his comment, but she just looked quietly at him, and then past him, toward Bee.

Several minutes passed before she spoke. "You'll be going back to school in the fall. And graduating in a few years."

"And then we can look into getting a place somewhere together, and starting our lives." They'd only talked about marriage in the abstract so far. His parents had cautioned him that his and Mikaela's shared experiences of facing death may have forged a strong connection between them, but one that had formed too fast to last.

"I'll be in Tranquility for the foreseeable future," Mikaela said. "I wouldn't want to move the shop since we're working so hard to establish ourselves here."

"That's all right. Tranquility's a great town."

"You're going to be working with the Autobots."

"Once I graduate, I hope so." He'd chosen his degree in Geopolitics with an eye toward helping the Cybertronians fit in on their adopted planet. Sam didn't have what it took to be a soldier, despite the success he'd had in battle so far, but he still wanted to find a way to contribute. He couldn't see himself working an ordinary office job when the truth and stakes were so much higher.

"All the Autobot bases are on the East Coast now." Mikaela had settled back down, staring up at the gently swaying branches above.

Sam frowned. He didn't know how to respond to that.

"We'll find a way to make things work," he finally said. "It's what we've always done, right?"

Mikaela didn't answer, but her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell gently, so he hoped she'd just fallen asleep.

* * *

 **Scene Two: Relations**

 **Eleven Months after** _ **Revenge of the Fallen**_.

The dawn air was still, the tops of the trees barely peeking into the pink light of the nascent sunrise. Optimus Prime blended into the branches of the highest of the trees, his form dark and colors dull. Bumblebee had rolled back down the road from the glade in which Sam now stood, giving him and Optimus privacy, and Sam was slightly anxious. He wasn't proud of the way he'd responded the last time Optimus had called for him this early.

Optimus's voice was calm and reassuring. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me at such an early hour, Sam."

Sam hid a yawn as he leaned back against a tree. "S'alright, I gotta start getting prepared for when classes start up again, anyway. I'm good."

Sam had tried for a casual tone and knew he'd failed, if Optimus' doubtful gaze – was that an amused glint in his optics? — was anything to judge by.

Gratefully, Optimus ignored Sam's residual sleepiness and turned to the subject at hand. "I have a favor to ask of you, Sam."

Those words made Sam's heart race. After being thrust back into the normalcy of his classes after the events in Egypt, Sam longed to be away from the mundane existence of a college student. Yet even so, he'd hoped he'd have more _time_ before the Autobots came calling.

"Whatever you need, Optimus," Sam replied, trying to stand a little taller. He hoped the Autobot would think his voice trembled slightly from the early morning chill and not any internal discomfort.

"I've tried to spare you worry as you focus on your studies, but you should know that relations between the Autobots and segments of your government have grown strained recently."

"Huh? You mean, after you've saved the planet twice, our government's less than thankful? Are they still after you to share your weapon technology?" Sam tried to think back on the classes he'd taken that year, introductory politics and global studies, but nothing came to his mind that would explain this scenario. He'd learned a lot about immigration, wars, and refugees, but the Cybertronian war between two factions that were thousands of years old didn't quite match any of his case studies.

"The situation is complicated, and I don't wish to burden you yet with the details. However, you know of the Autobot, Wheelie?"

 _You mean, the little perverted one that took a liking to my girlfriend's leg?_ "Yeah. Haven't seen him in a while, though."

"Wheelie's personality is making relations more difficult than they need to be. His colorful language and ... forthright manner have made diplomacy awkward. I'm hoping you would be willing to let him stay with you."

"Wheelie? Stay with me? Sure. I love the little guy."

A rumble echoed from Optimus's throat, and Sam didn't know if it was an approximation of a chuckle or some internal motor whirring.

"I would be most grateful. I did ask Captain Lennox, but he felt Wheelie might be a bad influence on his daughter's emerging language skills, and Mikaela was afraid he'd get underfoot in her workplace."

 _When did you speak to Mikaela?_ _She'd failed to mention that when I last spoke to her_. Truthfully, he hadn't spoken to her since she'd told him she needed a few days to be alone and catch up on several projects with her dad. Sam tried not to worry too much about that. He couldn't imagine them ever breaking up.

"Wheelie knows not to reveal himself to other humans unnecessarily, and he has sworn loyalty to me and the Autobots, so I do not see a concern there. As I hope Earth will become our permanent home, I think it would be good for him to live among humans to better learn your culture."

 _And some manners, too_ \- the comment was on the tip of his tongue, but Sam could tell Optimus wanted to say more, so he bit back the remark.

"I know Wheelie might be a difficult houseguest at times, but there are few I would trust with this."

Sam smiled faintly in acknowledgment of the remark, and a warmth spread through him. The faith Optimus had in him never failed to move him.

"Wheelie might also offer some protection for you. Several of your human governments have requested Autobot help with various matters, and Bumblebee will be needed. I am sorry I must separate you. He has told me how he greatly enjoys your downtime together."

"I understand; work and duty come first, and all that." Sam swallowed thickly. He was touched by Bee's regard of him and sad that they'd have less time together; the Autobot had become a good friend. When they weren't saving each other's lives on the battlefield or cruising the quieter sections of Tranquility with Mikaela, Bumblebee would enhance football or movie night with his speakers producing better surround-sound than any Earth technology could dream of. Sam would have to look into getting a part-time job to pay for a new car, though. Maybe there was still some junk in the attic he could sell on ebay. He'd have to ask Mikaela to keep an eye out for a cheap but reliable car.

Yet something else Optimus had said worried him more. Sam squinted up at Optimus, as the sun had now broken the horizon and the light was glaring in the crisp dawn air. "You said Wheelie could provide protection for me? Why would I need protection, again? Isn't the Allspark's knowledge gone from me?"

"All the shard's knowledge has been transferred, that is true."

"So you think Megatron's coming for revenge or something?"

Optimus didn't answer straight away. He was so long in answering that Sam began to fidget, shuffling his feet and playing with the sleeves of his jacket.

"I do not see Megatron concerned with such a petty notion," Optimus finally said, "not since he sustained such injury in Egypt. He would have greater worries, particularly since we've taken the hunt for the remaining Decepticons worldwide. With our existence becoming widely known after the events in Egypt, he must be expending much of his energy remaining hidden. I do not think you need to worry about Megatron, Sam."

It was the words that Optimus didn't say that Sam heard the most.

Optimus rumbled a sigh. "It is just a precaution, Sam. Wheelie might not be the soldier that Bumblebee is, but he is good at detection. He will be able to keep watch at your residence."

Great. He was losing a kick-ass ninja Camaro for a vulgar, chihuahua-sized security camera. Sam cleared his throat. "I'd thought of getting a dog, but hey, Wheelie will work just as well." Secretly, Sam still thought getting a guard dog might be a good backup plan. He'd been thinking of getting a Mastiff, anyway, since Bones guarded Mikaela's shop so well. Maybe he could train the dog to bite Wheelie if the little 'bot tried to snoop through his personal things.

Sam readjusted his stance against the tree. "Wouldn't it be easier if I just stayed with you guys? I'd keep out of the way when you were working, and I'd find something to do to contribute."

Optimus gazed at him steadily for several moments. "I know you have much to offer, Sam, but it's more important that you finish your schooling first. Your parents and I agree on this."

"I can always transfer to an online univ – wait, you spoke to my parents?"

"Briefly."

Sam's mouth opened and closed several times. He didn't know what surprised him more - that his parents hadn't mentioned they'd spoken to the Autobot leader, or that Optimus and his parents had discussed his future together. He'd hoped his parents hadn't said or done anything embarrassing, like ask Optimus to wash the skylights or take Mojo and Frankie for a spin.

"The government's picked up the tab for my college. I'm sure the taxpayers wouldn't mind if I deferred a few years."

"An education is the best way to prepare for your future. Not only is it a right of passage in your culture, but it will give you an important edge as you grow."

"I know I'm young to you - I don't have any idea just how old you are, actually – but I'm not a child. I'm an adult by human standards."

"Sam, I do not doubt your maturity. I certainly do not doubt your courage or your willingness to sacrifice for those you care deeply about, a quality only few individuals are capable of. These traits mean that you are meant for far greater things than most of your kind." Optimus took a step closer to him and knelt down so he and Sam were closer to eye level, and his voice took on a quiet, almost pained tone. "I am in your debt for what you have done to help us. Even so, every day I wish I could have spared you the danger and memories of war. As someone who has seen countless lives and youths lost to the horrors of war, it is my wish that you be spared what I am able to protect you from. You are young, and you have many years to become involved again. For now, enjoy your youth."

Sam instantly felt foolish for having said anything. Of course war was awful; of course Optimus would have his best interests at heart. Sam studied his shoelaces for a few moments before once again meeting Optimus's gaze.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam," Optimus said gently. He returned to his full height, glancing out toward the road. The growl of Bumblebee's engine grew close again, and Sam realized their conversation was drawing to a close. Optimus stepped toward the trees, starting to crouch, and Sam knew he was about to transform.

"But I'll be able to visit you guys, right?" Sam asked, the words rushed as he hurried to get them out before Optimus left.

"You will always have my permission to see us, Sam. However, there is your government to consider, and the Autobots are working hard to develop a good relationship with officials. You may not be able to visit us at NEST headquarters, but whenever we are out in the field and near you, I will let my soldiers know they are free to visit you, if you wish."

"Thank you," Sam said, and his words were nearly lost to the sounds of sliding and shifting metal. Optimus rumbled through a path in the trees, paused at the edge of the main road as if to wave, and then he was gone.

* * *

 **Scene Three: Broken Apart**

 **Twelve Months After** _ **Revenge of the Fallen**_ **.**

The letter had been left downstairs on the kitchen counter where Sam had dropped it. The envelope, stamped with the presidential seal, remained clenched in his fist. He wasn't aware he was still holding it. He'd stumbled all the way up to the privacy of his room, barely noticing anything else. All his attention was on Mikaela, and what she'd just told him.

"I'm breaking up with you, Sam."

Her tone had none of the subtle joking they'd enjoyed the previous summer, when he'd been going away to college for the first time.

He stumbled backward, tripping over his half-filled suitcase and landing heavily on his bed. "Why?"

Her eyes were sad but resolute. "You're going back to school in a few days. You're planning a life with the Autobots. My life ... my life is here." She gestured to the envelope. "The President's going to give you a medal. You're a hero, Sam. You're the bravest person I know. You have incredible things ahead of you." She smiled, a shy, insecure smile. "For my whole life, my dad hasn't been there for me, and he's trying to make up for it now. I have to focus on that, on the shop. I need to be there for him, and I've always wanted to run my own business."

"But – my life is with you, Mikaela. We've been through so much. It can't end here."

"I've always loved you, Sam. I love Bee and his friends. But I can't keep doing this. I need to be here. I can't be with you, _and_ be here. I can't." She leaned down and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Good-bye, Sam."

His vision blurred as she stepped away. He knew, in his heart, there was nothing he could do to make her come back to him. Mikaela made no decisions lightly.

Voices, calling for him, drifted in from down the hallway as Mikaela's footsteps faded down the stairs.

"Mikaela! Hi, dear. Do you want to stay for dinner? I'm making tacos. Did you see the letter Sam got? Mikaela?"

"Come on, Judy, she's probably got to get home. Sam? Sam!"

"Sammy? There you are! I saw the letter you left for us on the counter – my goodness. The White House! The President! This is _amazing_."

"We'll have to get you a proper suit to wear, son. Can't meet the POTUS looking like an out-of-work college kid."

"Ron! He helped save the planet! Give him a break. Sam? Sammy? Are you all right?"

Sam barely registered their presence, the concern in their tone, the touch of his mother's hand on his shoulder.

Unfortunately, a voice loud and clear rolled out from under the bed.

"Warrior Goddess dumped us." Wheelie made a rude noise and zoomed into the middle of the room. "First she burns out my eye, then the witch drops us like yesterday's trash. World just ain't fair to us, kid."

There was complete silence for several moments before the dam burst.

"Sammy! What happened? I had no idea you two were having problems!"

"I had a feeling it wasn't going to last."

"Ron! He needs our support!"

"Trust me Sam, the first one's always hard. It'll get easier."

"Sam? Sammy?" A pause. "Come on, Ron, let's give him time alone."

"Judy, I don't like the look of him."

"He's had a shock, Ron. Give him time to process things. Now come help me get dinner ready. We'll be there when you want to talk, honey."

"Wheelie, you better get downstairs before I have to kick you again."

The room grew quiet and still, and Sam was barely aware as the late afternoon turned to evening. When the first stars broke out in the sky, he still had not moved.

* * *

 **Scene Four: Gone**

 **During** _ **Dark of the Moon**_

Mikaela had not stopped shaking since she'd seen the broadcast of the shuttle launch. Inside, she felt hollow, numb, cold – but also overcome with intense waves of fiery grief.

The engine of the bike she'd been repairing lay around her, untouched for hours.

"Sweetheart?"

Her father's gentle touch on her shoulder broke open the well of tears she'd been holding back. She sobbed now, secure and warm in the supportive embrace of her dad.

"I never had a chance to say good-bye," she murmured into his shoulder. "I never get a final chance to tell them how much they meant to me."

Her father held her tighter. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sure they knew."

* * *

 **Scene Five: Lost**

 **Just after** _ **Dark of the Moon**_

Although Chicago's skyline was still smoking and the city was closed off to civilians until the area could be completely cleared of any Decepticons that had survived, Lennox and his team returned to DC for a brief respite. They needed to assess what was left of NEST, what damage Sentinel hadn't done, and what their capabilities were.

Of course, now was time to assess the emotional damage, too.

And to grieve.

The large, dark shell of Ironhide lay where Optimus had laid him before their forced trip to Florida. Optimus had told Lennox it would have been too difficult to move the remains and secure it in the Xantium. Lennox had been touched when Optimus had asked him to keep and watch over the remains at their base.

Lennox now realized that the Autobots hadn't intended to be separated from Ironhide at all, but he knew Optimus would have trusted him and his team - if not the government - with maintaining the remains.

Lennox had fought alongside the Autobots for almost six years, and although they'd both lost some friends in that time, he wasn't sure what the Autobots' burial traditions were. He didn't even know how Cybertronians conceived of death, since for them it wasn't always permanent. Optimus Prime had been revived, Megatron had been resurrected, and Sentinel Prime had been in stasis for however long it took his damaged ship to traverse the stars and plow into the moon.

Furthermore, Ironhide's body wasn't ... a body. The acid rust weapon had dissolved nearly all the upper half of his body, but his lower torso remained. Although Optimus had carried the solid remains inside, Ratchet had done something to the asphalt outside, where Ironhide's top half had pooled. Lennox assumed it had been to make the area safe, but the medical bot hadn't been much for words at the time.

Ratchet now kneeled at Ironhide's side, and even though Lennox didn't know all the Autotobts intimately, he was pretty sure it was a posture filled with grief, and not just medical interest.

Lennox closed his eyes, swallowing hard.

He felt Epps place a hand on his shoulder. "He was a damn good soldier," his friend said softly.

Lennox had lost men in battle - he'd lost commanders, friends, and those who were his responsibility. Ironhide, oddly, was a combination of all of those, and even though Lennox had only known the Autobots for a handful of years, the grief raging in him surprised him with its strength. There was something about fighting together on the battlefield that forged bonds that went deeper than family, race, or even species.

The bay was quiet - just Lennox, Epps, and Ratchet were gathered around Ironhide, and several paces away from them all stood the towering form of Optimus. He hadn't said a word since Lennox had entered, hadn't so much as moved. No matter how much grief Lennox felt, he knew that for the Autobot leader it had to be much, much more. Ironhide had often regaled the team with stories of battles he and Optimus had been in, and of peaceful times well before that, extending back for thousands of years.

The moment of silence and stillness stretched and grewuntil Optimus finally broke it. He stepped forward and crouched alongside Ratchet.

Ratchet turned to look at him. "Sentinel had developed that weapon of his while you were under his command?"

Optimus nodded. "Yes. I don't know how he managed it all - leading us, strategizing battles, and inventing what he did." Ratchet looked back down at the shell before them, and Optimus tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"

Ratchet hesitated. "We did not have time to do a proper search of the Ark before we carried Sentinel back to Earth. I worked with Sentinel on some projects, before I joined your team, and I understand enough of his methods to know that whatever technology he was striving to create, he also had a way of countering it." Ratchet paused again before continuing. "And I know that he personally developed his acid rust cannon."

Optimus jerked his head back, startled.

Lennox glanced between the two giants, an uncertain yet hopeful seed growing deep in his chest. "What does this mean? Can you ... " Lennox fumbled for the correct word - repair? Restore? Reanimate? "... bring Ironhide back to life?"

"I have been studying the effects of the acid rust," Ratchet said. "When the wreckage of the Xantium is raised from the ocean, I may regain access to more powerful equipment, but I believe I already have a very good idea of how the weapon works." Ratchet stood up and stepped back, as if feeling awkward about discussing the specifics in front of their fallen comrade.

"The acid rust isn't so much acid as nano particles, similar to - " here Ratchet warbled something in his native language. He glanced at Lennox and Epps apologetically. "I'm sorry, it doesn't translate to your language. Your technology is not advanced enough to have a word for it. This technology is similar to our own makeup, but it's designed to break us down, instead of allowing us to change form." Ratchet looked back down at Ironhide. "It's possible that there is a way to reverse it." He gestured to Optimus. "The damage to his spark might have been considered irreparable, if you did not have the Matrix."

Optimus did not speak for several long moments, and when he finally did his tone held a touch of awe. "How long?"

"Not soon, by anyone's reckoning." Ratchet glanced at Lennox as he said this. "I can attempt experiments now, but I'd like to wait until we can get to the Ark to see what may be there."

"If you guys can fit in one of our shuttle bays, I'm sure NASA can send you up on the next launch."

"With the Xantium inoperable at the moment, we have no way of traveling to the moon."

At Lennox's confused look, Optimus added, "Your shuttles can carry fuel enough to orbit, but not to traverse the distance to the moon, nor can they land."

"Oh."

"What about one of those Decepticon ships?" Epps asked. "There's plenty of them hanging about Chicago. I know we hit most of them in the battle but I'm sure your Wreckers could fix one up in no time."

Ratchet looked at Optimus. "It could work."

Optimus looked back down at Ironhide, reached out and touched the still form. "We may yet work together again, my old friend." He spoke in the softest voice Lennox had ever heard him use, and Lennox moved closer to the Autobot.

Normally to comfort a companion, Lennox would place a hand on a shoulder, or embrace him, but that wasn't possible with a person as big as Optimus. So Lennox settled on placing a hand on the highest part of Optimus's leg that he could reach – which turned out to be his shin – and patted it, but then let his hand rest there in an attempt to show sympathy and solidarity.

Optimus didn't respond; their gazes met and the Autobot inclined his head ever so slightly.

Lennox was glad at the message that passed unspoken between them: He and his friends were there for Optimus, and Optimus was there for them, and their planet.

Come good or ill in the coming years, they were in this together.


End file.
